Them: Oasis
by Turkish1
Summary: The udead have formed a conscience and they want Goliath on the otherside of an attack they are about to launch on a refugee center.


(A/N: It seems as if the format for this site removes my star breaks. Until I figure out the problem please consider any changes of scene preceded by a star breaks, thank you.)

Oasis

"Calm Before the Storm."

Time before dawn was growing short when Goliath led his clan to Castle Wyvern. They arched over the palisades walls and were instantly confronted by a platoon of Xanatos security along with a Steel Clan robot.

"Say something to prove you're not one of Them!" Bruno cried.

Brooklyn stepped forward, "uh… take us to your leader."

The joke seemed lost on the security members and their robot, or they weren't in the mood to laugh. "This way," Bruno said. "Mr. Xanatos has been waiting for you."

"Time is growing short for you," Demona smiled to Goliath as many in the clan glanced nervously to the east. The sun was as inevitable as Judgment Day, and the horizon was brightening by the second. "It must be so inconvenient having to turn to stone during the day," she continued

Goliath growled as he led his clan to the main courtyard where a scene of chaos was taking place.

Xanatos security was placed on every high point, appearing intimidating with the machineguns they carried. Meanwhile, men and women in tattered business clothes rushed from the castle to return with armloads of papers to dump in several fires.

"Ah!" Xanatos made and appearance, looking as intimidating and gregarious as usual in his red battle armor. "I was wondering when you would make an appearance."

"Could we talk inside," Goliath asked.

"Of course," Xanatos said. "This way."

Inside the Great Hall the chaos did not relent. Xanatos employees were piling papers and electronics in preparation for destruction. Also, little baby Alex lay in his colorful crib that had been set near the action so Xanatos could keep a better eye on him, an island of peace in a sea of insanity.

"I am glad you came now, we are just doing a little house cleaning before I take my family and employees to Xanadu," Xanatos said. "Oh, hello Demona. Here I thought you caused all his zombie nonsense."

"And I you," Demona muttered.

Goliath bounded forward, "you are planning to abandon the city!"

"There have been a few problems that have convinced me to relocate corporate headquarters away from New York," Xanatos replied.

"We better make this conversation quick," Lexington said with a nervous eye to the window. The Gargoyles had about an hour before their involuntary slumber.

The zombie Angela, however, had been distracted by something else. While the leaders of the two clans spoke, she slowly made her way to the crib that protected Alex.

"Aren't you a beautiful baby," Angela cooed as she approached. Almost everyone else in the room was distracted, including Fox, by the conversation at hand. However, Bronx was watching and put up a low growl as Angela drew near.

"Yes, of course I want to save New York," Xanatos continued. "However, you may notice that someone near and dear to me is missing from this conference."

"Owen," Goliath rumbled.

"Yes," Xanatos said. "Eight hours ago he said he knew how to end this and left with most of my remaining Steel Clan. I have not heard from him since and must consider him lost."

"That's very bad," Demona commented.

Angela wrapped her cold hands around the plastic hand rail of the crib. "Such a cute little baby, I always thought so. I will name my first born after you…" She said while her mouth flooded with saliva.

Alex seemed to know that 'auntie' Angela was not here to hold and sing to him as she usually would. He knew she had changed, and not for the better. He tried to crawl away, trapped by plastic netting decorated with Toy Story characters. He whimpered as Angela's hands opened and slowly reached for him, to her infected mind he was just a little snack of meat.

Bronx roared and bowled Angela over, catching everyone's attention.

"What the hell is going on here!" Xanatos roared as Goliath scooped Angela up and rushed her outside.

"I don't know what happened," Angela said as Goliath put her down. "I just saw Alex and I couldn't help myself. It just took over."

"I asked what was going on here," Xanatos stormed after them with Alex wailing in the background.

To Demona's credit she stood along with Goliath, standing protectively over their daughter.

"Angela had an accident," Goliath said.

"Are you trying to tell me that your daughter tried to eat my son," Xanatos demanded.

"Not on purpose," Lexington interjected.

"She was infected on the first night," Goliath said. "Demona's magic saved Angela from enslavement, but we've been having other problems."

"She's one of them," Fox roared. "You better keep that THING away from my son!" She rushed back inside with Alex in her arms.

Silence followed.

"I should go," Angela said and walked to the palisade. From there she could see the vast shadow that was Manhattan without electricity. "They call to me," she said. "They bid me to come to them and hunt living flesh until the end of time."

Goliath sighed, out of pleasantries to inspire hope in his child.

"Wait!" Xanatos cried. "Where are they calling you to?"

Angela slowly pointed to the south west.

"Their pull is stronger there? Or do you feel other attractions," Xanatos asked.

"No," Angela said. "It wants me to go west. To Pennsylvania where there are still many survivors to eat."

Xanatos smiled. "Goliath, I believe we have a weapon."

"What do you know," Goliath asked.

"The morning before the outbreak Owen instructed me to remain in the building and keep as many workers there as possible," Xanatos said. "When it started, he told me to abandon the lower floors and turn off the power, anything to make the building appear abandoned, gutted. Not a single zombie bothered us over the first two days. However, after Owen vanished, we were attacked by a horde of over a hundred thousand. The force field, the reinforced windows, all of our barricades and guns, could not hold them off. We were only lucky to stop the infected at the upper floors by destroying the stair cases."

"What does that all mean," Goliath asked.

"They seem to have a single mind, lad," Hudson piped in. "One of the zombies spoke to me. He knew of Angela and Elisa."

"This is fantastic news!" Xanatos cried. "With Angela we have a direct conduit to their thinking. Angela! You are my new best friend! Just don't ruin it by trying to eat my son again."

"Thanks, I think," Angela said.

"For now, lets get in the helicopter and get to my country estate. From there we can plan our next move." Ever the opportunist, Xanatos seemed giddy as a school child.

Goliath and co woke the next evening near the steps of Xanatos's stone vacation home, the man himself was kind enough to have set up breakfast on a table outside, Angela and Demona were waiting for them there.

"I am so hungry I could eat a horse," they were surprised to hear Lexington say.

The rest of the clan chuckled, "me too," Broadway laughed.

They sat around the table, coffee was poured and breakfast steaks served along with hash browns and toast. The Gargoyles, except for Angela, dug in.

"Hey," Lexington suggested through mouthfuls. "What if Angela was to eat fruit?"

Demona looked up from her breakfast and muttered, "its not worth the risk. Angela should not consume a single living cell or she may become a zombie forever."

"Well, fruit at least isn't animal cells," Lexington said. "At least its worth a try, wouldn't you say?"

Demona continued eating, "fine. Go ahead, don't cry to me when she tries to devour your liver."

"Alright," Lexington said and dumped a bunch of fruit on Angela's plate. "Dig in."

Angela glanced up at Goliath, he shrugged.

Angela attempted to bite into an apple, but before her teeth penetrated deeply she spat it out. Grotesquely spitting out every last phantom of taste left over from the succulent red fruit.

"It tastes like ash," Angela said.

"There," Demona said. "Happy now?"

"No," Lexington muttered.

"Angela is not to eat, under any situation," Demona said.

"On that note," Xanatos said. "Are you all ready for the bad news?"

The clan glanced to each other, "now what?" Brooklyn asked.

"A horde of zombies arrived during the day. So as soon as you are done eating we will have to move on," Xanatos said and opened his Ipad. There, on the screen, was an image of hundreds of zombies being held back by a fence.

"Well, I'm done," Brooklyn said.

"They followed me," Angela said.

"Yeah," Xanatos answered. "Probably. I don't know. Maybe we passed over a horde of them and they knew helicopters contained living flesh and followed us here. Don't blame yourself so quickly."

Tired, sad, they began loading up Xanatos's red helicopter once again in preparation to leave. Xanatos took one last look at his vacation house before sliding the door after him. The 'copter began to rise off the ground.

"Wow, now you can see them," Broadway said as the helicopter rose hundreds of feet off the deck. Below, held back only by a chain link fence, were thousands of zombies shoving against it. As they watched sections of fence were crushed down and they began to pour inside and toward Xanadu.

"I'm sorry about your house," Angela said to Xanatos.

"Don't worry about it," Xanatos said. "I've been told on many occasions that losing everything helps a man focus on what is truly important in life."

"Sure," Angela muttered.

The pilot put on the air traffic for all to hear, "another warning, sir." He announced to Xanatos.

"…at ten GMT the United States Government has declared all American airspace as a no fly zone to all but military and authorized aircraft. Any non authorized aircraft are hereby ordered to put down immediately. Message zero zero one.

Survival guidelines are as follows: remain in your nearest appropriate shelter, a multiple story building is optimal. Do not remain on the ground level. Make sure to place an indication on the roof to alert rescue forces to your presence…."

"Keep flying," Xanatos said. "The military has larger bigger to fry than a single helicopter tonight."

"Yes, sir."

"…do not move, rescue forces will come to you.

Stockpile enough food and water for several days. If you do not have food do not leave your shelter to search for it. A human can go several days without eating and in that time you will be rescued.

If you must leave your shelter for any reason try and find other survivors. When you see other people make sure to yell out coherently to them so they know you are not amongst the infected. Message zero zero two.

Secretary of Defense Robert Gates has announced that the Army will discontinue counter offensives to retake the Atlanta Metro Area including the Center of Disease Control and Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. Do not travel to this city for any reason. All aircraft is redirected to Dobbins Air Reserve Base twenty miles northwest of Atlanta. If you are in, or find yourself in Atlanta, refer to Message zero zero one…"

"The outbreak has already reached as far south as Atlanta," Goliath asked of the radio message to Xanatos.

"The entire world is in the hands of the outbreak," Xanatos replied. "The world just doesn't know it yet."

Goliath growled, "you must have a plan."

"I do," Xanatos replied. "I was working on it before I lost Owen. Use the Gray Goo Scenario at attempt to reprogram the infected and make them healthy again…"

"You cannot," Goliath said. "You'll just trade one world destroying outbreak for another."

"No," Xanatos said. "Not unless If I can find Matrix to control the Ooze."

"Hmm," Goliath grumbled. "Your plan may work."

"It would have, if I still had a home base in which to operate from," Xanatos replied. "And Owen."

"Where are Fox and Alex," Angela asked.

"I sent them on ahead with most of my surviving employees," Xanatos answered. "I own an island a few hundred miles off the western Mexican coast. At best, they will remain there until this all blows over. At worse, my employees will have to repopulate the world."

"Dark," Brooklyn said. "Even for you, Xanatos."

"So, where are we going now," Angela asked.

"Funny, I was just about to ask you that," Xanatos answered.

Angela glanced around the Helicopter's interior. It was very dark inside, all the equipment's lights glaring out like beacons, stars showing in from the windows.

"Trust your instincts," Lexington suggested. "Last night you said…"

"I already know Its next target is," Angela moaned. "Reveresburg, Pennsylvania. The voices keep repeating the name of that town."

Xanatos instantly related the destination to the pilot.

"Will Elisa be there," Goliath asked.

Angela closed her eyes, trying to listen to the strange stream of conscience murmuring at the back of her head. This the was the great IT, the shared mind of the zombie subspecies and their directing motivation. At the beginning of the outbreak the voice was hardly a fleeting arrant thought, now it was like a murmuring creek at the back of her mind.

"Yes," Angela said. "She is with the zombies."

Goliath and the rest of the clan sighed sadly. "Could you sense her if she is near," Goliath asked.

"I don't know," Angela answered.

"Why Reveresburg? Is the Puck directing the undead in some way," Xanatos asked.

"I don't know," Angela answered. "All I can gather from it is that It wants to finish the United States quickly. That is, before It enslaves the rest of the world. And it wants us."

The clan and Xanatos looked to each other, "why does it want us and for what?"

Angela raised her hands and shook her head, she didn't know.

"Demona," Xanatos said. "You are our resident zombie expert. What do you have to say about all of this?"

"I've never experienced anything like this," Demona answered. "Every undead outbreak I have ever witnessed or heard of usually ran out of energy after consuming a few towns. The Gargoyles, humans, whoever, would soon respond with an organized response that zombies can not combat. I have never known zombies to be organized in any way. When prey is not present zombie groups simply fall apart into small numbers that are easily destroyed even with simple weapons. The largest outbreak I have ever heard of was in fourteenth century China and that was just a few thousand. The largest I've ever seen was in Germany in eighteenth century and that was a few hundred roving bands dispatched by agents from the Vatican."

"Awesome," Xanatos muttered. "I'm exploring new depths of science and history."

"Would you look at them all," Lexington breathed as he and the others looked out the windows as they reached western Pennsylvania.

They were flying near New Castle and drawing close to their destination of Reveresburg, Pennsylvania on the Ohio border. From what they had seen along the journey was desolation, simply miles and miles of abandoned American territory. Towns and highways were dark and silent, as if the human race had never existed at all; however, there weren't any zombies either. Demona gave no remark positive or negative over the situation.

That situation changed drastically when they approached New Castle. Here towns and cities were still brightly light, traffic seemed to flow normally, and Pittsburg's Airport was still in operation for military aircraft.

That breath of fresh air changed when they were north of New Castle. There they started flying over hordes and hordes of zombies, hundreds of thousands of them. If there was a question of if the undead were being directed by some sort of force, it was answered now. It was obvious that millions were being massed for nothing less than an invasion of the mid west.

"Angela, can you sense Elisa amongst them," Goliath asked.

Angela watched out the window as the helicopter banked low over another procession of Them. This horde wasn't even moving toward nearby New Castle with its thousands of juicy humans, but was obviously flanking around the metro area. The zombies were not simply driven by hunger but a mind bent on strategic conquest.

Angela tried to access the river of strange voices at the back of her mind, she did not want to admit that it had been growing louder as the approached the strange city and that it continued repeating Elisa and Puck's names. Angela didn't want to tell her father because she knew It was baiting them. It wanted Goliath to try and rescue Elisa, It wanted Goliath as apart of the army of the damned.

"She's in the area," Angela said.

"Where," Goliath asked.

"I don't know," Angela lied, the voice was happy to tell her where Elisa was.

"So, what's you plan, Goliath," Xanatos asked. "Land in Reveresburg and start combing the area for your lost wife? Flat heading through hundreds of thousands of zombies? One of which may be a powerful magic user and child of Oberon?"

Goliath growled.

"Might as well be looking for a needle in a stack of needles," Xanatos continued.

"If I can get her out, I will," Goliath said. "Demona fixed Angela, she can fix Elisa as well."

"What about the rest of the human race? Do you think if you lost your life in trying to rescue Elisa you would help them," Xanatos demanded.

"Since when do you care about the human race," Goliath growled.

"Do you think there will be much of a market for automated prosthetic software in a world dominated by zombies," Xanatos demanded. "I need the human race, for at least someone to sell to."

"Whatever," Goliath muttered.

Demona chuckled, but Goliath didn't seem to hear.

Angela put her hands to her ears, her eyes scrunched shut. The voices at the back of her head had suddenly become deafening. "I know where she is," Angela was forced to admit.

Goliath took her shoulders, "where?"

"She's at the head of the column," Angela answered while her eyes were still scrunched shut. "Twenty miles from Reveresburg."

Goliath rushed away and relayed the information to the pilot.

Xanatos, however, noticed that Angela did not look the same when her eyes opened. They seemed reddened and bloodshot, yet darker in a strange way. She kept blinking her eyes as if to clear whatever had just took control of her mind, a drop of black congealed blood rolled from her nose.

"What just happened," Xanatos demanded of her. "Did It just take over your mind?"

Angela wiped the blood and blinked her eyes, she smiled, "no, I just had to concentrate really hard to understand what It was saying."

"Sure," Xanatos muttered. "I guess they have no way to attack us here in a helicopter. I'll just have to convince Goliath to listen to reason."

Angela smiled and whispered, "you'd be surprised what they can do."

Nearing the small town the zombie armies ceased to be great rivers and became small wandering squads. They weren't moving as much and seemed to be… hiding.

"Where could Elisa be," Goliath demanded as the helicopter circled the small hamlet of Paynes again and again. Below looked like a scene out of an RPG video game, small groups of zombies just standing around as if waiting to talk with a hero, or eat, depending on the game.

"Take the helicopter lower," Goliath cried, and the aerial dropped to just above roof top. "I don't see her. Angela!"

"I-I don't know, maybe I didn't hear It right," Angela replied.

"Goliath, maybe the great It is trying to lead us into a trap," Xanatos said.

Goliath did not take his eyes from the helicopter's windows, "how could they lead us into a trap? They're just animated corpses!"

"Famous last words," Brooklyn muttered.

"Bring the helicopter lower," Goliath commanded.

"I'm sorry, sir! This is as low I dare take us, there are wires and antennas all around," the pilot cried back.

"Not good enough," Goliath muttered. "I'm getting out."

Xanatos grabbed his great shoulder. "Goliath, calm down. We'll land this rig and from there we'll formulate a plan."

Goliath didn't seem to calm at all, "first lets keep checking the area. Take us west to those stands of trees and then we'll go and plan or, do whatever feels right."

"You're the boss," the pilot cried and maneuvered the copter toward the woods.

As soon as they drew close the trees lit with muzzle flashes, tracers flashed all around, and the copter bucked with an early hit.

"Shit!" The pilot cried while yanking up on the controls.

The helicopter rose quickly but was continuously rocked with hits from rifle rounds. Outside the front visors the passengers could see they were about to fly right through a great wall of tracer fire.

The helicopter bucked and bounced with hits, despite its armored coating bullets were finding their way into the cockpit. Alarms screamed as the vehicle began to lose power and pointed toward the forest below.

"Hang on," the pilot cried and he tried to glide it to the ground at an angle. The Gargoyles had another idea and grabbed all the flightless humans and evacuating the helicopter into the cold night air.

A mushroom cloud advertised where Xanatos's helicopter had crashed to Earth.

"I have a lot of fond memories of that helicopter," Xanatos said as they now sheltered in a treetop. Beneath the forest was alive with flashlight beams and calling voices. Thankfully, it didn't seem that the undead had mastered the art of firearms, but it seemed as if humans had shot down their craft.

"Why would they shoot down a helicopter," Broadway asked.

"We did ignore the warning not to fly," Lexington answered.

Xanatos was not participating in the conversation, instead he put his helmet on and checked the GPS. "Reveresburg is only five miles to the south, if we move quickly we can make it there and have time to plan our next move before sunrise."

"Then let's do so," Goliath answered.

Soon, they could see why the great It would want this small strange town known as Reveresburg. The town was on a smaller highway that was choked full of refugees looking for safety in Ohio. Also, it was a refugee rest area, allowing people to stay in the town's racetrack before moving on. Also, the town was cut in half by a river with a single bridge spanning the gap.

Reveresburg was ringed by military defenses, but probably lightly defended as compared to where the interstate crossed the border miles to the south. A place where dozens of thousands were crossing hourly for the promise of safety in the mid west.

"So, now that we're here, how do we get in," Lexington asked as they were still hiding in the forest far from the town. Maybe the town was relatively lightly defended, but there were plenty of soldiers to shoot up a clan of Gargoyles.

Xanatos took off his helmet and smiled, "become refugees."

"Easy for you since you do not have wings, but what about us?"

"Improvise," Xanatos said while stripping off his armor. The Steel Clan battle armor formed neatly into a briefcase like carrying platform. He and his two pilots started the trip toward the town across an open field.

"What if they shoot you up like they did your helicopter," Lexington called after the former billionaire.

Xanatos turned while still walking backwards, "they wont."

"How do you know?"

"Because its me," Xanatos cried and continued walking.

Lexington glanced at Goliath who shrugged.

Behind, in the forest, they heard someone yelling, "no one was in the helicopter!"

"How could anyone survive a crash like that?" Another deeper voice yelled back.

"They could if they're zombies. Wake the others and start patrol sweeps of the forest and the river. They couldn't have gotten far!"

Broadway looked at Goliath, "time to go, huh?"

Traffic on the highway was backed up for dozens of miles, a nice buffet for the armies of zombies that were currently massing just a few miles to the north. It was there that Goliath and his clan had to commit their worst crimes, stealing clothes from distracted refugees.

It wasn't easy to find clothes that would fit Gargoyles, especially Goliath and Hudson. But it seemed to work as the endless river of heartbroken refugees didn't seem to notice the Gargoyles in their midst, or care. Goliath and his warriors hoped that they would repay the theft by ending the zombie threat.

They quickly noticed that the endless ocean of refugees was slowed to a crawl because the army was running a checkpoint at the entrance to town.

The Wyvern Clan soon walked past a sign which stated: "Camp Zulu Rest Area Ahead! All passing this point will subject themselves to an invasive medical and possession check. Any who refuse will not be allowed entrance into the Camp or Ohio and may be subject to arrest!"

A Bradley Fighting Vehicle clattered past on the highway's shoulder, its main gun pointed at the Refugees.

"I'm starting to think this is not a good idea," Brooklyn commented to Goliath.

They were starting to draw near the checkpoint and could see that the Army had surrounded the town with cyclone fencing. Behind the fences were sandbag bunkers for soldiers behind Browning Fifty Caliber heavy machine guns and automatic grenade launches; Gargoyles were tough but their hides could not stand against such heavy ordinance.

Ahead, at the checkpoint, the Gargoyles could hear dogs barking and loud conversations.

"Goliath," Broadway whispered. "We're still the monsters here, maybe not the worst ones out there…"

"Yeah, I don't want to end up an Army test subject," Lexington said.

"If we try to fly away they'll shoot the crap out of us like the helicopter," Brooklyn said.

At the checkpoint there was a chorus of loud screaming and the Gargoyles could see a family being hustled off the road by soldiers. They were forced into truck and driven off immediately, away from the town.

"I guess they're serious about that threat," Angela said.

"Goliath," Demona whispered. "What do you think they're going to do when they discover that our daughter is a zombie and that we are Gargoyles!"

"Right," Goliath stopped in his tracks. "Let's calmly step out of line and try to find another way into town."

The Bradley was clattering back up the flank of the refugees with a humvee in tow, a helicopter was hovering near.

"Wait until these warriors pass, then we will make our move," Goliath said.

The helicopter turned on its spot light and started scanning the crowds, the vehicles slowed.

"I'm getting a bad feeling," Angela said about the soldiers.

It was as if she had spoken the magic words because the soldier behind the M60 cried, "there they are!" And the helicopter's spot light instantly focused on them.

The Gargoyles froze, "anyone ever had stage fright," Brooklyn asked.

The urge to fight, flight, or flee conflicted as soldiers emptied from their vehicles, some with hands on their weapons.

"Goliath!"

The tense situation instantly diffused when Xanatos jumped from the Humvee and rushed to them. "I have had the army looking all over for you!"

Goliath and the others sighed as the fear subsided.

"I have first class conveyances waiting right here," Xanatos motioned to the Humvee.

The Gargoyles hesitated. After all, until yesterday Xanatos had been one of their greatest enemies. However, practicality won out, if they refused the ride then they risked arrest or battle and they could not afford either.

"Wow! Gargoyles," a dark complexioned man in army fatigues greeted as the Gargoyles sat in the Humvee. "I've seen and heard a lot about you but I never thought I would meet you in person." He offered a hand.

Goliath and the others simply looked at the hand as if it were an alien thing; meanwhile the vehicle lurched forward, thankfully in the direction of town, they soon passed the pickets.

"My apologies, colonel," Xanatos said. "Myself and my winged friends here have been through a great deal since we escaped from New York."

"I understand. My name is Colonel Tom Garcia, you can call me Tom" the officer said as they passed a sign: 'Welcome to Reveresburg! Pop 10,353. Lions and Rotary Club.' "Until yesterday I was with the Army Reserve and working a full time job at Verizon Wireless. Today I am in command of a front line city in a major war being fought on American soil."

The Gargoyles did not share in his warm humor and did not crack a smile, they had seen too much since leaving Manhattan.

"How is it all coming together," Goliath asked.

Tom's smile instantly faded, but lingered as if waiting in the wings. "Its been bad. This outbreak is only a few days old and most of the world's largest cities have been effected. From what I understand New York City is a total loss and foreign cities like London and Tokyo are about to go next. The army has taken a heavy beating, along with most of the nation's emergency services."

Goliath nodded gravely.

"However, there certainly is hope," Tom continued and his smile was back. "We have heard that Gates is about to declare the outbreak as contained."

"Contained," Demona voiced their skepticism. "We just heard that Atlanta has fallen."

"That is regrettable," Tom said. "But the infection has not spread significantly west and the infected are losing their cohesion and the army can easily destroy their small disorganized cells. The World Health Organization is preparing to declare that they have found a treatment for the infection. Best of all, the west coast is nearly reclaimed. We just received a communication that San Francisco is one hundred percent in the green."

"That is good news," Goliath said.

Tom's smile beamed.

"However," Goliath continued. "Do you know of the large zombie concentrations to the northeast? I could not count them all. But there could be millions."

Tom's smile faltered. "I wouldn't be too concerned. I'm sad to say, but it is true: the infected are following their food source, the refugees. But their numbers account for little without coordination against the US Army. This is the weakest position along the Ohio border and we have already fended off attacks by the infected, one numbering over a thousand."

"What did they say to you," Hudson asked and Tom gave him a look as if to ask him if he was crazy. "Did you know the infected could walk on the bottom of river beds, unharmed?" Hudson continued.

Tom laughed, "nearly a thousand of the infected attacked no less than four hours ago. Not a single one of them made it a hundred yards of our perimeter. We could repel an attack of ten times that many."

"But…" Goliath began, wanting to tell him that there were at least a hundred thousand just a few dozen miles away.

"I would like to introduce you to illustrious Camp Zulu!" Tom said. "You guys are welcome to stay, but please observe the rules…"

Goliath looked out the window at the town of Reveresburg where the electricity still blazed bright and the quaint streets were clogged with refugees. He knew that Tom would no longer listen to his pleas.

Moments later Xanatos, his pilots, and the Gargoyles found themselves in another river of refugees. This time they were being swept into a short term refugee camp situated in the former Reveresburg Motor Speedway.

"Welcome to Camp Zulu!" Lexington read a noticement. "This is a short term facility and we ask that you do not stay over twelve hours. If we ask you to leave, please do so immediately. You may accept three meals worth of MREs but no more. The next refugee center is located in Akron, Ohio."

"This is supposed to be a rest center? How's anyone supposed to get any rest here?" Angela asked.

Grandstands were around a racing oval, this was where thousands of refugees were crowding to attempt to rest up before their next leg of their journey. The place was deafening with conversation and vehicles drove or idled around the narrow paths through avenues of survivors.

Broadway looked down as they entered the camp proper, he nearly stepped on a mother and her three children and all were miraculously sleeping despite the noise.

"Let's get some food, huh," Goliath suggested.

They joined a line that led to, ironically, the former concession stands. Here members of the Red Cross were not handing out precooked meals but plastic containers containing what was known as MREs.

When Broadway stepped up to the counter the exhausted appearing lady behind it said: "you can take three but only eat one per meal, we will not give you any more after."

"Thanks," Broadway grumbled and snatched away three containers that looked like plastic bricks. He followed his clan to a small clear spot on the muddy ground, the grandstands were all full.

"Meals ready to eat for the American War Fighter," Brooklyn read off the package. "Pasta Rigatoni." He opened it to reveal another plastic container and opened that as well. More plastic containers spilled out. "Oh brother," he commented.

"Jackpot!" Lexington cried as he held up a package of Peanut Butter M&M's from inside his MRE.

"I'll trade you for a, uh, plastic container of Cappuccino Mix," Broadway said.

"Uh, no," Lexington said. "Unless it came with a barista."

"Take container of entrée," Brooklyn continued reading his instructions. "Place in heating bag and fill to line with water."

Brooklyn and the others did as instructed.

"Place heating bag at an angle and wait ten minutes," Brooklyn read, they did and soon strange smelling steam gushed from the packages.

"I think we should take a minute while we are waiting to remember those we've lost over the last few days," Goliath suggested.

They did, heads bowed in silence…

"I think they're done," Brooklyn said with a voice thick from emotion, he rubbed his eyes before taking the bag. The others did as well.

"Well? How is it," Lexington asked Broadway as he opened the package and squeezed some into his mouth.

Broadway make a bitter expression in response.

Lexington tried some of his own and commented, "oh man that bad. I'd rather eat a road killed skunk."

"Good news, Angela. I think we found food dead enough for you to eat," Brooklyn said.

"No thanks, I would rather keep starving," Angela replied.

"Stop it," Goliath grumbled. "There are many out there tonight who would wish they had this food."

"Exactly," Xanatos said.

Demona watched the human wolfishly, "oh the might have fallen, eh, Xanatos?"

"I don't agree," Xanatos replied. "Now that I've lost everything I own I can finally concentrate on what's truly important. My family, saving the human race, rebuilding my fortune from the bottom up and focus more on international trading. Besides, these MREs are better than prison food."

Demona grumbled, her insults failed, she turned to her food in sulking silence.

They ate on for several relatively silent moments before Xanatos stood, "good stuff," he said.

"Where are you going," Goliath asked.

"You don't really want to spend the night here, do you," Xanatos asked. "I'm going to scout the town and see if I can score an upgrade. Maybe a four star hotel with linen service and a concierge who knows the best clubs."

"Do you need help," Goliath asked.

"Come on, I'm not trying to scare the people I talk to," Xanatos said and walked away.

"I bet when he comes back he'll have opened some business selling water or something and already regained his fortune," Lexington commented, the others chuckled.

Goliath did not crack a smile, "Angela, what are the voices telling you now?"

Angela took on an expression of concentration, "nothing. They are quiet."

"Remember," Brooklyn said. "IT wanted us here. Why?"

"Because this is where IT is going to attack next and wants us to die with all these other people," Lexington said. "Maybe it's a good thing that Xanatos is finding another place for us to stay tonight."

Xanatos made his own luck and was good at it.

It was not hard for him to find a way out of Camp Zulu and into the town of Reveresburg itself. There he wanted to find a local with good knowledge of the area and might know where the army checkpoints would be situated in the surrounding countryside.

Luck seemed to be cooperating as the floods of refugees were sticking to the highway and Camp Zulu. He soon found himself in relatively quiet neighborhoods with quaint little houses cut from the Pennsylvanian forest.

He soon found what he was looking for, a squat little building with anti theft bars over the windows. A sign over the door proclaimed 'Sugar Daddy's,' lights were on inside and beat up pickup trucks were in the parking lot.

"Jackpot," Xanatos said as he climbed the steps.

"Cover charge is ten bucks," the bouncer said as Xanatos entered. Inside was clean and relatively attractive, as far as strip joints go. A girl was dancing near a polished bar in only a G-String decorated with cute little butterflies. She had a really attractive body that seemed fit for Hollywood except for a strange series of scars across her back and a tattoo that read 'Raven' on her hip.

Xanatos paid, "I was wondering if you could help me…"

"You need to buy a drink and keep it full as long as you want to stay here," the bouncer said, ending the conversation.

Xanatos went to the bar where other strippers were talking and waiting for propositions for dances.

"McDonelson Whiskey on the rocks," Xanatos said.

"No booze here, boss. How does a Mountain Dew sound?" The bartender replied.

Xanatos nodded, "I was wondering if you could help me with something."

The barkeeper whipped up a plastic Dixie Cup of the green stuff and handed it to the former billionaire. "If the Sheriff or the Army catches you away from the camps they're liable to shoot you, sir."

Obviously that conversation was going nowhere so Xanatos said: "Thank you," and stepped away from the bar. He noticed the ugly expressions on the faces of the reclining strippers, he knew he would not get any help from them. There was only one hope left.

He went to the seat nearest the polished dance floor, nearby sat men in camouflaged shirts, thick glasses, and poorly fitting jeans. Xanatos placed a twenty on the floor to lure the stripper who was the center of attention.

The bill must have pinged the stripper's radar because she sauntered over to Xanatos immediately and picked up the bill to add with the bushes of Washingtons at her G-String.

"A Jackson," she commented while bending over backward, gyrating her pelvis near his face. "This might be my biggest tip at one time."

"That surprises me," Xanatos said as she tried to rub her breasts in his face, he jerked back. "You are quite pretty. I was wondering why such a beautiful young woman would be working at a such a seedy strip joint."

"My are you laying it on thick," she said. "Oh, I'm studying to be a vet at the nearby college. I'm just working here to foot tuition."

Xanatos gave her a look.

"Alright, I got into drugs and thought I was too cool for school and dropped out," she said. "I had a job at a better strip joint until my boyfriend shot me in the back with a shotgun over an argument about drugs. I guess I got lucky he used bird shot instead of buck shot. His attack inspired me to get clean, at least. And I'm looking into cosmetology school."

"You can stop dancing because all I need is information," Xanatos said. "Who do you know around here who can get myself and several large friends out of the city away from the army and to a safe, more comfortable, place to rest and recuperate with no questions asked?"

She ran her lips over his ears, "do I come into your work place and tell you how to do your job?" She licked his earlobe before sitting back, still gyrating. "I'll let you in on a little secret: most strippers do not live in the same town in which they work. Can you imagine? Going to the post office and running into the wife of one of your clients? I live in Akron."

Xanatos felt deflated, figuring that he would have to continue his search elsewhere.

"But I think I can help you, if you have more of those Jacksons that is. Maybe a Benjamin if you're desperate. "

Xanatos appeared out of the crowds at Camp Zulu, "pack up, I found us an upgrade."

The Gargoyles slowly stood, "where?" Goliath asked.

"Our ride was expensive and time is short, so if you don't mind, follow me this way," Xanatos said.

At the nearby street a Chevy Silverado with a cap on its pick up bed idled. The Gargoyles ran to it where the stripper (now fully clothed) waited to close the gate behind them.

Inside smelled heavily of marijuana and gasoline, the Stripper and Xanatos got in the cab as the door ajar alarm pinged. The window between the cab and the bed slid open.

"Wow, real Gargoyles," the driver smiled as he drove onto the street seemingly without looking.

"Where are we going," Goliath demanded.

"There's an evacuated village ten miles north of here with a nice Hotel Eight. Its empty, quiet, and as of yesterday, within the Army's ring of defenses so you don't have to worry about large cells of zombies disturbing your rest. However, we do have to evade a checkpoint so I suggest keeping down and holding on. Make no mistake, the army guys they have out here are shooters. They'd probably kill a little girl if she did not have the proper papers."

"Here we go again," Lexington moaned as they flattened themselves in a claustrophobic mat on the dirty steel floor.

The lightest military checkpoint was situated at a small road leading out of town, only four machineguns surrounded by cyclone fencing. The Gargoyles driver got behind two army transport trucks taking supplies to the northern defensive positions.

"Hang on," the driver said as he could see the checkpoint's CO checking over the transport's cargo. Eventually, the officer filled out his checklist and signaled the trucks through; the gate lifted open.

"Here we go," Driver said.

The CO started toward them, checklist in hand, but Driver had other plans. As the transports lumber forward he slammed on the gas.

"Hey!" The officer cried as Driver cut in front of him, nearly running him over. Tires sending up a plume of airborne soil Driver cut in front of the transports and past the checkpoints.

The maneuver was perfect because the lumbering supply trucks were in the way of the machine guns aim. As soon as they were clear on open road Driver hit the nitrous and left the guns in the dust.

"Yeeha!" Driver cried.

However, as they hit a lonely country road lined by trees, the truck was suddenly illuminated in a spot light.

"Helicopter!" Brooklyn cried.

"Shit!" Driver cried back. "Hang on to your butts!"

The helicopter let loose a volley of gunfire, barely missing the truck and sparking off the blacktop; if it was a warning volley the Gargoyles and their friends were certainly warned.

"Hang on tight, and I mean tight," Driver said as he laid a finger on the nitrous again. The vehicle jetted forward, one touch of the wheel, one arrant wind, and the truck and its occupants would be a a long discolored stain on the macadam.

"Woo! Who needs Nascar!" Driver cried as the truck slowed. "Uh-oh."

They were blinded by another helicopter spotlight.

"Is that the same one?" Driver asked.

The copter fired again, a couple of the rounds shredding through the fiberglass, only fortunately missing the occupants inside the truck.

"I'm sorry, folks," Driver cried as he tried another road. "I don't think we're getting out of this one. Mr. Xanatos, I'd offer a refund but it probably won't help where we're going."

"Just keep driving," Xanatos said. "Goliath, we need a solution."

Goliath turned to Lexington, the smallest and fastest of the clan, and the one best able to avoid the helicopter's lethal rotor blades. "Can you hold the helicopter off?"

Lexington nodded.

"Then do it, meet us at the Motel 8," Goliath said.

"I'll beat you there," Lexington winked as Brooklyn opened back hatch and the little guy slipped out into the black night sky.

"Broadway, you and I are on deck if anything happens to Lexington, or if more helicopters arrive," Goliath said.

"Sure," Broadway replied while nervously watching out the window.

The pursuing helicopter wavered, then banked off unexpectedly. The Gargoyles and their human allies were alone on the road again.

"I think he did it," Demona commented.

"I just hope Lexington can find the rest of the way," Goliath replied.

"When this is all over I think we should all take a long vacation," Brooklyn grumbled.

The village of Dales certainly appeared deserted when they arrived. Deserted except for a couple of vehicles parked in the lot for the dark and abandoned Motel Eight. They pulled to a stop and the stiff and sore Gargoyles tumbled out of the back; Goliath checked the star freckled sky for Lexington, seeing nothing.

"Hoo doggy! Helicopters and gunfire, sounded like you had an eventful exit from town," the cars were filled with gruff, overweight, men in camouflage jackets and pants. Through the stripper Xanatos had been able to contact a Tax Protest Group that had been training in the nearby forests for events just like this Zombie Apocalypse.

"Yeah," Driver replied. "I don't think we'll be welcome in Reveresburg again."

"That's fine. That town is just a big buffet for the Deadheads when they decide to attack in force."

"Roger that," Driver said as he went to the hotel's main entrance. "I'm going to get you inside and I would appreciate it if everyone watched my back.

The Gargoyles and others did as asked while Driver picked the lock, though watching the horizon for Lexington as well. Demona edged to Goliath's side.

"Funny, isn't it," Demona whispered. "We've been battling millions of undead for days now and the first of us killed will be lost to the humans, our supposed allies."

"I am not having this conversation," Goliath said with more emotion than he intended.

"Hey! Keep it down, gigantor," one of the militia men growled. "We don't know what's lurking in the forests around here!"

"Think about it, Goliath," Demona whispered. "Perhaps when this is over you'll reconsider your loyalties. On a level I could understand your decision to side with the humans, on a level. The humans are many and strong with their technology and magic, I could understand that you would want to be on the side of the supposed winner. After this, however, their numbers and power will be manageable…"

"Demona," Goliath sighed. "Enough!"

"Just think about it," Demona edged away.

Behind them, Driver picked the lock to hotel and the door popped open. "No alarm. I've still got the stuff, baby."

Goliath reluctantly stepped away from his vigil and looked inside.

"Alright, my big friend," Driver said. "The hotel is yours and we are going to leave behind a few days of food, as per our agreement with Mr. Xanatos. A few suggestions. Don't have any wild parties, military aircraft fly over on a constant basis and there is a very good chance of small numbers of zombies in the forests and buildings around here. I wouldn't suggest breaking into any of the nearby buildings because some of them have battery powered alarms. I also would not drink out of the river as north of here factories dump into them. There are wells at some of the outlaying houses, I would go there instead."

"I understand," Goliath said.

"Then good luck to you," Driver said and his posse stepped into their vehicles and drove off, in the opposite direction of town.

Goliath sighed, "Brooklyn, Broadway. Will you go out and find Lexington? Keep the patrol short and the motel in sight, dawn is soon in coming."

The two nodded, climbed a wall, and took off in the direction of Reveresburg.

Goliath growled.

"So, okay," Xanatos said. "The undead have formed some sort of collective conscience and wants us here. So now what?"

Goliath turned to Angela and she shrugged. "Might be the first time my mind has been clear since the incident." Angela said.

"Sometimes military forces exercise radio silence before an attack," Xanatos said.

"Then I guess we will remain here and hold off the offensive," Goliath replied.


End file.
